


Stolen Glances and Fat Chances

by aickerman_s



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 09:39:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15992561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aickerman_s/pseuds/aickerman_s
Summary: Written for Rivamika Jam 4Prompt - "Mikasa is forced to attend a formal party for her work, having worn shoes (far too high for her liking), she comes face to face with a staircase, and Levi at the bottom of it."Formal Work Party AU.





	Stolen Glances and Fat Chances

Damn these heels. And damn this party.

If it weren’t for the fact that her promotion was riding on all this Mikasa wouldn’t have bothered her backside. But as it is, this opportunity was too big to pass. As the next potential well-paid head of adverting at Shiganshina magazine, she quite literally couldn’t afford to mess up tonight.

From the balcony up top, she surveyed the floor below her, eyes scanning the crowd of models and designers. The magazine’s fashion week edition was coming up fast, and she wasn’t going to wow her boss by striking up a deal with any old client. She could list more than one easy pick here tonight… But if she was to have any chance against her opponents, she’d have to take a risk. It was a competition after all. If she could just charm one of the more important designers, or impress one of the models…

That was the plan anyway. That was why she was dressed as bold as she was; slinky crimson dress with the lips and the heels both sharp enough to match; the blood red fabric hugging close to her chest, the high slit reaching up to the top of her thigh, flashing glimpses of her toned legs, the heels she wore giving them an elegant stance – absolutely _nothing_ like her usual, admittedly reserved, style.

These ridiculous shoes were far too damned high, but they were the only ones that worked with the outfit. She protested initially, but Sasha from the fashion department was hearing none of it, and absolutely refused to let her be seen in anything else. Mikasa wondered how much of that was her genuine fashion sense, and how much was just a friend’s efforts to try and see her set up with someone. Likely the latter. She was forever berating Mikasa for working too hard and partying too little, so she saw this as the perfect opportunity to play match-maker for her, and if she was being honest, Mikasa kind of wanted to let her.

So she figured it would be fine, that no one would notice her stumble in amongst the crowd. However they _would_ notice her tumbling down the grand marble staircase leading down into the centre of the hall, which she most definitely did _not_ know about. She glanced up at the grandiose clock looming over the hall below. No, she’s definitely been avoiding this for too long. Taking the last drawn out sip of her drink, she let out a resigned sigh and forced herself to stop frowning. She wasn’t afraid to admit she looked good, but that wasn’t doing her much good hiding all the way up here.

She put down her glass and headed toward the top of the staircase, which was carefully designed to show off to the room any guest entering the party – two long sets, parted in the middle by a small landing, where some could pause and get a better look at the guests, and the guests at them. Perfect choice for a party full of models and designers and other… pretty people, but bad for her. There was no doubt that if she fell, everyone would have a clear view.

While Mikasa naturally had a very cool, calm expression, and gave off a collected, self-assured presence, on the inside, she was absolutely shitting herself: her mind running through a sickening reel of all the worst possible outcomes, forcing her to watch and pre-emptively face all the humiliation. But still she forced herself forward, wishing nothing more than to get whatever the outcome over with, so she can stop running the risk of throwing up.

She straightened her posture as she approached the stairs, frown returning with a vengeance. She grabbed the railing, hoping no one would notice her knuckles paling. Dipping her toe forward as if she was testing the water, she tentatively took her first step. After a moment, she risked more of her weight on the stair, foot wobbling slightly as she brought forward its pair. So far, so safe. She continued down, trying hard to keep a natural, if slow, pace. Worrying that she was starting to sweat, she eventually reached the halfway point, the small landing, where she could slow down and gather her composure.

She released a tense breath and practised her stride across the flat surface, before starting rather more confidently down the second half. She’d gotten over the worst of it – if she fell now she’d have less to fall, and the chances of that were slimming now that she’d shakily conquered the first half. She allowed herself a brief smile, and held herself a bit higher… and let her concentration wander.

Despite herself, she glanced at the crowd below her, immediately coming to a stunned and shaky stop. She found a terrifying amount of eyes on her, looking up in awe and appreciation. _Damn you, Sasha_ , she silently cursed, several eyes roaming her body, appreciating her racy dress and killer heels. Before she knew it she had an audience.

She was sure her nervous gulp of air was audible, but still she tried to hurry herself back down to ground level, grimacing slightly over the blush rising in her cheeks, the weight of their gazes making her knees shake uncontrollably. There was still so long to go…

Her eyes darted from stair to crowd, stair to crowd, scanning, hoping desperately to find a co-worker who she might convince to escort her down the rest of the stairs, or at least to catch her if she fell. But she had found none, when her gaze was stopped in its tracks, caught still by an icy stare, entrancing and intense. At the front of the crowd, the dark-haired man behind the gaze was handsome, sharp features and sleek figure, yet strong and commanding. Her eyes followed his body, saw that he wore a strikingly sharp charcoal suit, just tight enough to show off his muscles, and glanced back up, blush deepening, to see a devilish smirk. He was not looking in admiration like the rest, but with anticipation. He was waiting for her to slip up, and that alone threw her completely off guard.

Before she could tear her eyes back off of him, she felt herself falling. Her weight pulled her forward, missing the step completely. With a jolt she threw out her arms, elbow catching the banister before she slipped, pulling her to a harsh stop as her foot hit the edge of a step too far ahead. Eyes scrunched shut, she winced, awaiting the inevitable, and praying she could at least hit her head on the way down and forget this ever happened.

She heard the gasps, but not the thud. Before her body could hit the marble and tumble the rest of the way down, an arm caught her, cradling her back and holding her by the elbow. For a moment she just let it happen, not wanting to open her eyes to face the consequences.

“Are you alright?” came a soft question, not quiet but smooth like silk, deep and charming. It was enough for her to peek sheepishly out of one eye, her curiosity outweighing her embarrassment momentarily.

Icy eyes. Same colour, but not the same. These eyes were soft, inquisitive, concerned. The face that wore them had all the same features, but was gentle, and comforting. Was it really the same face? Mikasa only stared in confusion, forgetting the question and the situation entirely, as the strong arms of her protector lifted her slowly back to her unsteady feet.

She managed to clear her throat and mutter a soft thanks, trying with all her might not to look back at the crowd below, her burning cheeks almost matching her dress. The man’s hand lingered on her arm, and he gave her a supportive smile, before he rested his hold on the small of her back. Mikasa stopped herself from letting out a small gasp, his touch sending tiny shocks up her spine, as he gently guided her down the rest of the stairs at an even slower pace than before.

She shot him sideways glances between steps, utterly confused by this man and his polar opposite personas. Unless… maybe it really wasn’t the same man? As she pondered this weird coincidence, they arrived almost at the bottom of the stairs. Without braking pace, the man leaned in close to her ear. He took in a breath that sent shivers up Mikasa’s neck, the scent of his cologne subtle but alluring. She looked at him unintentionally coyly out of the side of her eye, peering from under her thick lashes.

“If you’re going to come to a fashion event in those heels,” his voice low and unexpectedly harsh, dissonant to his expression, “at least learn how to walk.” Her eyes narrowed at this, confusion marring her features. “Just something to consider,” He ended with a hint of venom, enough judgement to sting her. Her eyes widened in shock, trying to piece together his unreadable expression.

They arrived on solid, flat ground, and he turned to her, all smiles and grace, and bent over to kiss her hand. His lips were soft and gentle, but his gaze, that never left her eyes, was sharp and superior.

And with that he left her. Her eyes followed him, shooting rather embarrassed daggers at his back as he rejoined the crowd to compliments and praise on his random act of kindness.


End file.
